


just bend the pieces till they fit

by wtfunnelcake



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Barebacking, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Harry just wants to be good for Nick, M/M, Nick just wants to get to know Harry, Other ships might show up idk yet, Sexual Slavery, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 04:43:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2137401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wtfunnelcake/pseuds/wtfunnelcake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Nick's bad at this.  He's really bad at this.  It's not his fault though.  He had never had any real inclination to purchase a bed slave, but here he was filling out the paperwork for a slave that he picked because he had dimples. Dimples.  Of all fucking things.  </i>
</p>
<p>Nick Grimshaw turns thirty and his friends buy him a bed slave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	just bend the pieces till they fit

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first fic I'm ever posting on AO3. Be gentle with me! This fic is unbeta'd and unbritpicked (Looking for to fill those roles so feel free to hit me up if interested). This is a story that would not leave my head no matter how long I went without putting words down to text and I finally gave in to the muse. I hope you all enjoy it. Questions, comments and suggestions are all welcome and loved :)
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: None of this is real. Although the personas are based on real life people, it is entirely fiction and in no way representative of reality.

Nick's bad at this. He's really bad at this. It's not his fault though. He had never had any real inclination to purchase a bed slave, but here he was filling out the paperwork for a slave that he picked because he had dimples. _Dimples_. Of all fucking things. His friends were going to have a field day with this one. He'd have to make something up about how it was the boys lanky frame and dick sucking lips that drew him in immediately, which were actual things that he noticed for the record, but it was the way the corners of his lips quirked up into a smile when he thought no one was watching and his cheeks indented that had Nick without so much of a hello. Qualifications for a slave those were not. 

it was a bad idea, he said it was from the start which is why at 30 years old Nick Grimshaw still did not have a slave like most of his equally affluent friends. He didn't look down on the process or have anything against the idea of owning one, but in his years of life thus far he just didn't see the need for one and he didn't see it as a fit for him. Most of his friends had more than one and in hindsight he should have expected that it would come to this. They had listened to him whinge on enough about his recent break up that wasn't even really a breakup because they had never decided to be official in the first place, but the bloke left his toothbrush at his house which should mean something to somebody somewhere still. He's been overanalyzing for weeks ever since Tom left his phone on the table when he went to the bathroom and a notification for new message popped up that Nick just couldn't ignore. Well, he could and easily, but the problem was he picked the other option. The option that had him staring at a fairly average sized but erect penis and well he really couldn't be blamed for freaking out. Except they weren't exclusive and he was still whinging on so it's debatable...depending on who you asked. 

It all adds up in the end because on his 30th birthday his friends announced they had bought him a bed slave.

He likes to think it might have been somewhat taboo to just casually announce a present like that at a birthday brunch in one of the more posh restaurants in London at some point in time, but that's not the world Nick lives in. If anything the shocked laugh that rips uncomfortably out of him is the more out of place thing within the current perspective of today. Alexa had told him that she could go with him to choose if he'd prefer being that he is new to the whole process, but he had quickly shook his head and tried to down the rest of his mimosa while he wished it was a much harder drink.

Now that the papers are signed and the deal was done, he was wishing he had Alexa by his side because he didn't quite know how to answer the question presented to him.

"Would you like to bring him with you or have him sent to you?" 

Nick stares blankly at the man. He can see the frustration written all over his face and Nick knows it's clear he has zero idea what he's doing. 

"Uhhh...sent to me?"

The man ignores the fact that Nick presented that as a question and Nick is almost grateful for it. He's not sure what the most common choice might be, but as he weighed it out he knew he should at least give himself time to sort his head out before he was alone with the boy.

He wonders if there have been books written about the topic. He'd have to get them online if there were. Wouldn't know how he'd feel going into some shop and just asking if they had "The Idiot's Guide to Owning a Bed Slave". His friends assured him that day that this was all perfectly normal for the wealthy. The idea of owning a bed slave was a lot less taboo than it was when he was younger. It used to be a terribly seedy business, kidnappings and torture. Nowadays it was a well oiled machine of a business just the same as Radio 1 where he worked. Bed slaves were just that by choice. An immeasurable amount of money was given to the bed slave to distribute as they saw fit once they volunteered to hand their life over to training. Usually it ended up being boys and girls from very poor families that life had dealt a very bad hand of cards too. Some got into it just for the thrill of it however. The important thing was that it was all by choice these days, at least if you went through a respectable company. There were still illegal dealings here and there, but they were heard of less and less as the law cracked down on them. The boy he purchased chose to be there. That still didn't settle his mind all too well. He'd need more time than a car ride home to wrap his head around it all. 

Back at home he feels useless. A drop off time wasn't specified and Nick found himself glancing at the clock unbearably often. He paces through his flat to tidy things that don't even need tidying. He can't help it that he doesn't want the boy to arrive to a bloody mess and judge him on that straight away. Even if by all rights this boy was considered his slave he still wants to be a proper host and all that. 

Eventually he hears the doorbell ring and with a deep breath to settle his hammering heart Nick opens the door. He's greeted by the sight of a man with a clipboard. There are some formalities still left and Nick scribbles his signature in all the appropriate places, tries to ignore the weight of green eyes beyond the man's shoulder. 

Finally it's all settled. "He's all yours" the man tells him as he hands off the boys luggage. He is moving in after all, but looking at the bags now the reality hits Nick hard. Nick thanks the man awkwardly when he gets ahold of himself once more and holds the door open to let his new bed slave into his home, and into his life oddly enough now that everything is finalized. 

Nick opens his mouth to introduce himself properly. His train of thoughts stops immediately however when the boy sinks to his knees as soon as the door is closed. His brain nearly short circuits. _Best training in London_ , Nick thinks. Henry had told him just that at his party and as much as that's lovely and all Nick doesn't really know what to do with this. 

"You don't have to..." His mouth is dry as he speaks. He pulls the boy back up to his feet instead of attempting to butcher the English language further, pulls him further into his flat so they aren't just standing in his foyer. The confusion is written all over the boy's face and Nick tries to ignore it. Focuses on settling him in and worrying about the rest later. 

"I'm Nick...What do I call you?" Nick asks once he's got the boy up off his knees and sitting properly on his couch. 

"What would you like to call me?" The boy responds with a curious tilt to his head and a wicked grin that leaves Nick mostly floundering. His big hands feel useless at the end of his arms because suddenly he's not quite sure what he should do with them under the careful scrutiny of the boy who knows far more than he. 

"Your name" He watches the change of emotion on the boy's face, his brows furrowing in consideration of what Nick just said. He might as well have just asked him a terribly difficult maths question with the silence that falls between them now.

"Harry" the boy finally concedes, blinking up at him. 

"Harry" Nick repeats with a nod and gets used to the feel of the name on his tongue. His bed slave's name is Harry. He considers asking for a surname, but being that the first was difficult enough he leaves it at that for now. "Let's show you to your room then, Harry" 

Apparently this too was an unexpected turn of events for Harry by the way his brows furrowed once more. 

He was going to have to get used to Harry looking at him like he was mental then it seemed. 

_Fantastic._


End file.
